


Noticed

by Rhys (rhyssj)



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-11-14
Updated: 2001-11-14
Packaged: 2019-04-19 20:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhyssj/pseuds/Rhys
Summary: Chris finally notices.





	Noticed

Chris noticed it when he was drunk. One minute, he was drinking red bull and vodka, moping, and the next minute, JC pranced by and Chris was just gone. He blinked, shaking his head to try to clear it, but it was no use. In that moment, Chris thought JC was hot. 

He freaked out, just a little bit, but forget about it until the next morning when JC walked by, grinning brilliantly, and Chris's heart skipped a couple beats. Inwardly, Chris groaned. 

This was his worst fear coming true. For six years, he had managed to ignore the fact that his bandmates were hot, denied that Joey's smile lightened up his whole face, paid no mind to Justin's liquid hips as they thrust around lewdly onstage. To Chris, Lance's incredible ass did not exist, and JC certainly wasn't the prettiest guy he'd ever seen. 

But now, when the sun caught JC's face at just the right angle, when his eyes turned so light they looked purple and his nose looked smaller in profile, Chris's heart jumped into his throat, and Chris swooned like a fourteen-year-old girl. All in all, Chris thought miserably, a fucking lousy way to start the day. 

Chris was doomed. 

~~~ 

"Dude," Chris said casually, sidling up to Joey while he watched the other three out on the dance floor, doing their thing. Joey looked up from his beer and made a grand gesture, inviting Chris to sit down. "I think I'm lusting for C." 

Joey smirked. "Well, I've been told he's pretty hot." 

Chris groaned. "No, man. Tell me how ugly he is. Tell me that he's a dick, and I shouldn't even like him at all. Tell me about all the people he's fucked over, so I won't ever want to go within ten feet of him, ever, in my life." 

"Um. but he isn't like that," Joey said slowly, elbowing Chris in the gut. 

"Then lie to me," Chris muttered, "just. stop me. I know! tell me he's the worst lay in the world. You know how I feel about that. Go on. Tell me he can't suck dick, and when he does, he uses teeth. Come on, tell me all about it." 

Joey laughed then cleared his throat. "Chris, dude. I've heard about that guy. He's terrible. He spits, and he won't bottom, and he's into heavy S&M. He kicks kittens. He hates your mom." 

Chris blinked then sighed deeply. "Dude, I don't believe you at all." 

Joey laughed. "Chris, man. I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you." 

So Chris sighed and moped and suffered for the rest of the night. 

~~~ 

JC, Chris decided, was beyond beautiful. He was gorgeous, absolutely ethereal. Chris wanted to have his babies, hordes of them, and he obsessed over names, trying to pick out ones JC would like, freak ones like Pixie and Windmill and Buffy. Buffy Kirkpatrick-Chasez. 

He suffered silently for the most part, writhing mentally instead of physically, though sometimes he lay on his bed, stretched out and sprawled helplessly, imagining he was in the throws of passion with the most beautiful man in the world. 

"Um, Chris, are you okay?" Lance asked, after finding Chris on his back, arms spread wide, sighing softly as he moved around. 

"Fine, fine," Chris muttered, getting up and straightening his shirt, tugging it low over his hips, but Lance looked at him, stared at him and just knew, Chris could tell, the lying bastard, playing all coy. JC wasn't like _that_ at all. 

"You look tired," Lance said, and Chris ignored him, petulant as he perched on the edge of the bed, thinking about non-sexy things, like flat tires and Uncle Ben's instant rice. "But anyway, whatever. I need you to do me a favour." 

"If it involves JC, I won't do it," Chris announced loudly. 

Lance blinked. "Uh, no. I just wanted you to lend me a pair of khakis." 

"Why don't you just ask JC?" Chris demanded, pointing his finger at Lance, and Lance stepped back, playing stupid, like he wasn't in here to pry. Chris knew all about his games. "I'm onto you, Bass. All your snooping and prying, and there's nothing going on between me and JC, nothing at all." 

Lance shook his head. "I just want a pair of pants, Chris. And I don't know if you've noticed, but, like, hi, kinda hippy here. I just want a pair of pants, man. I don't care what's up between you and Jayce. I just want pants." 

Chris narrowed his eyes but went to the closet, where he'd hung up all of his clothes on the off chance that JC invited him out to a private dinner and wouldn't appreciate Chris's wrinkled pants. "I don't know who sent you, but I am, under no circumstances, lusting after JC." 

"I just want pants, Chris," Lance repeated and backed out of the room. 

Chris returned to the bed and writhed for another two hours. 

~~~ 

"So, Lance and Joey say you're hot for C," Justin said, and Chris exhaled sadly, nodding. After the debacle with Lance, Chris could no longer deny that his loins burned for JC Chasez. It was the cruelest fate in the world. Chris had been so careful; he couldn't believe his rotten luck. 

"Well, dude. Have you tried talking to him about it? He thinks you hate him." 

"Dude, I can't. I'm afraid if I do, I'll start humping his leg or something. Like, whenever I see him, I want to tear his clothes off with my teeth. Oh, god. What am I going to do?" Chris asked, folding his palm over his eyes. "I'm doomed, man. He's ruined me." 

Justin laughed and turned off his bike, and Chris followed suit, though he did it with all the suffering and tragedy that he could muster. Justin clamped a hand over his shoulder and squeezed. "Chris, as one buddy to another, I'm sure if you just talk to him, things'll work out. He's single now." 

"Yeah, right," Chris snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just walk right up to him and confess that I yearn for his sexy body? Uh huh. No fool! What's wrong with you? Things don't work like that! Have you never seen Behind the Music? I do that, and I end the group!" 

Justin shook his head and laughed again. "Just talk to him. Bring him dinner and light a candle or two, woo him. You know he's a sucker for wooing. Because, really, man, if you don't cut this shit out, we're going to tell him ourselves. You're freaking us out." 

"Fine, fine," Chris muttered, "but I swear, years from now, you're going to wish you'd never said that. My passion, man, my passion will destroy us all!" 

"You freak. Just shut up and talk to him already. Jesus, Chris. You'd think this was the end of the world or something," Justin said, waving behind him as he walked, and Chris was left standing there, utterly doomed. 

~~~ 

In the end, Chris did what Justin suggested. He bought Chinese food, wore his cleanest clothes and brushed his teeth beforehand. He kissed the picture of JC he kept in his wallet for good luck then felt like a psycho and apologised to it then slapped his hand to his forehead and wondered when he'd turned into such a weirdo. Regardless, he stuffed the picture back into his wallet and fixed his hair in the mirror, hoping he looked dead sexy or, at least, not crazy. 

Walking across the hotel hallway, he knocked on JC's door then freaked out because, oh god, what if JC had company, what if he was freaking a hot chick? Chris turned around to leave when JC opened the door, his huge hair all dishevelled and beautiful, and his eyes, Chris swooned, his eyes were like the sky during a storm, dark blue and swirling. 

"Hi," Chris said, "I brought food." 

JC smiled, and he just sparkled, the space between his teeth so adorably cute that Chris just wanted to lick it. "Uh, Chris. It's, like, three in the morning. We have a concert tomorrow." 

"Oh," Chris said, and god, was he lame. "Sorry." 

"No, I'm kinda hungry, I guess," JC said, folding a warm hand over Chris's arm and stroking gently, the nicest guy in the whole fucking world, "come in," and Chris tripped over his own feet walking through the door, then grinned sheepishly. JC laughed quietly. "You're sweet, man. You know that?" 

Chris looked around. "Are you talking to me?" 

JC tipped his head, nodding, and his hair flopped around, curly and big and beautiful. Inside his chest, Chris's heart thumped loudly, and he thought he was going to pass out. When JC lifted his head, he was smiling, all crinkled and happy. "It took you long enough to notice." 

Chris didn't mean to sound so stupid when he asked, "uh, huh, what?" 

"That I like you," JC said, beaming, "like, how could you be so blind, man?" 

"I don't know," Chris admitted, caught in this bizarre state of disbelief because no way was the prettiest man in the whole world looking at Chris like Chris had a chance at something so gorgeous and divine. No fucking way, but JC was looking at him, all bright eyes and warm smile. "I guess I'm just dumb or something. Slow." 

"You're sweet," JC said again, and kissed him.


End file.
